“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
and sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could to where it bent in the undergrowth;
then took the other, just as fair, and having perhaps the better claim,
because it was grassy and wanted wear; though as for that the passing there had worn them really about the same,
and both that morning equally lay in leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh somewhere ages and ages hence:
two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference.”
Robert Frost
